Second
by stars fly so high
Summary: "This would be the second time this year I ran away, but unlike that last time, nobody had died yet." It's 1969, Ponyboy and Kate are trying to finish their senior year of high school so they can go away to college together. But, if it's up to someone, they won't have the chance. Sequel to 'Three.' R&R.


**A/N: Hello all! Jeez, I've been gone from fan fiction for a while. D: To those that read _Three_, I'm really sorry for making you wait this long! Life got extremely crazy these past three years, but I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I should finish what I started. **

**Well, enjoy! c:**

_**I do not own the Outsiders, just Kate Cade.**_

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(Future POV)

_I never wanted things to turn out this way._

_I never wanted to be the one sitting in the emergency room waiting, hoping for good news._

_I never wanted to hurt either of them._

_But most importantly, I never wanted to be the screw-up, the one person that seemed to ruin everybody else's lives. _

_And as I sat on that dirty hospital couch, I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I messed it all up. Two people had bullet holes in their body, and all because I wanted a taste of the past. One could die because of me. My stomach churned and twisted at the thought. I couldn't take it anymore; my feet led me toward the exit before I knew what I was doing._

_This would be the second time this year I ran away, but unlike that last time, nobody had died yet. _

_But before I could make my escape, Soda grabbed me into a hug, sobbing "It ain't your fault, Kate" over and over again into my shoulder. _

_"S-Soda, it is...and-and you know it...I didn't do anything...and they're here, and I-I didn't, I couldn't-"_

_He wiped the tears off my face, murmuring "Shh, shh baby, calm down. You gotta be strong."_

_And I wished I could be. I really did._

_But he didn't even know the half of it._

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(Kate's POV)

_December 31, 1968_

The rising sun filtered weakly through the old Bel Air's glass windows as I sat up, waking from my dream. My eyes scanned around the white interior of the car. I wondered why it felt like a little man was hammering on the inside of my temple, until I took in the pile of empty beer cans sitting in the passenger seat.

I knew Johnny would be pissed when he saw, but I couldn't bring myself to care at the moment. I had bigger fish to fry – like _where the hell I was, _or _how long had it been since I left?_ Sticking the key in the ignition and turning, I didn't hesitate to turn on the radio and scan every station. I kept rotating the knob until I finally heard the end of some station's commercial.

"…keep yourself tuned in to WHB 710, coming straight to you from beautiful Kansas City!"

'_Kansas? How the hell'd I end up in Kansas?'_

So then it had been three days since Mrs. Carter's funeral. Three days since I'd run off with no explanation to the gang. Three days in the same black dress I'd worn to Mr. and Mrs. Curtis' funeral.

Three days without talking to Johnny or Ponyboy.

Rubbing my eyes, I opened the car door and stumbled through the unfamiliar parking lot of a gas station towards the payphones, loose change jingling in my hand. I felt worse with every nickel I pushed into the phone, but they'd forgive me.

'_They always did,' _I thought as I punched in my phone number.

_One ring._

I didn't deserve it. I was the one who hopped in Mr. Carter's car and drove off like it was nothing.

_Two rings._

I stole the twelve pack of beer from the fridge, I took his cash, I ignored them when they called my name.

_Three rings._

_I _was the one who ran away. And all I remember is crying and cracking open beer cans to stop.

_Four rings._

"Hello?"

"Johnnycake?" I croaked.

"Kittie?" He sounded relieved. "Goshamighty, what _happened_ to you? I-I've been worrying my ass off! Four days, baby sis, and no call, no nothing! I thought some'un got to ya, or kidnapped ya, or-or-"

"Stop, stop…" He just kept going on and on, adding to the already massive headache I was nursing. "Johnny, listen for a minute!" The other end went silent, so I continued.

"I'm sorry for jettin' outta there and not calling. I've been kinda messed up the last few days."

"So've I! Where _are_ ya?"

"I-I'm in Kansas. Just don't worry, I'll be back today."

"_Kansas?_ Kittie…how the hell'd you end up there?"

"I dunno, I just kept driving and driving." He sighed, but from relief or frustration, I don't know.

"Kittie, Ponyboy's been over here most every night. We've been worryin' ourselves sick 'bout ya."

"I'm sorry, Johnny, I mean it...don't get mad or anything, but I've been hittin' the bottle. I didn't wanna call you soused."

He was so quiet; I almost thought he'd hung up. I'd known he was angry, but feeling it through the phone was too much. I couldn't deal with it.

"Tell Pony I love him. I'll be there before 1968's over."

"Kate-"

"I got a long drive. Bye, Johnny."

I jammed the phone back into the box before he could protest and hopped in the car. I turned the radio up full blast and sped down the dusty highway towards Tulsa.

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It was late at night when I pulled into the driveway of my mint green house and shut the car off. A blanket of snow covered the roofs and lawns of all the houses as far as the eye could see, disguising the lack of grass and money in the neighborhood.

For once, all of Tulsa was the same.

I glanced over at the Curtis house. All the lights were off, but I could make out the faint glow of the T.V. set from between a space in one of the windows' curtains.

'_That's gotta be Pony.'_

A bubble of panic rose in my chest, and I swear I could hear my heart beat in my ears. I hadn't really prepared myself for this moment during my long drive, and now that I was here, I wasn't sure if I'd ever be ready. As I pulled a hair-tie off of my wrist, I tried – and failed – to take deep breaths and relax. I ran my hands through my greasy, unwashed hair, pulling it all back into a ponytail in an attempt to make myself more presentable. I shut my eyes, trying get rid of every worry and negative thought.

I finally forced myself out of the Bel Air and up the steps of the Curtis house, feeling worse with each step. Trying to be quiet, I slowly opened the creaky front door and peeked in, taking in Pony's figure draped across the worn, blue couch. His brown hair was ungreased and limp against his head, while his usual jeans and black tee were replaced with old gray sweats and a wife beater that stuck to every muscle on his torso. Any trace of worry Pony had was nonexistent as he slept. He looked almost peaceful until I crouched down onto the beige carpet in front of him – the lavender rings under his eyes proved Johnny right.

Guilt coursed through me, pure and unforgiving. I kept trying – and failing – to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was stuck firmly in there. My hand reached out by itself to touch the soft curve of his face illuminated by the TV. I desperately needed him to wake up and tell him that I loved him, that I was sorry I'd run out on him.

But more than anything, I needed to kiss Ponyboy until my lips were chapped and swollen with the effort.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched his grey eyes flutter open wide and then settle on me. We stared into each other's eyes for the longest moment, both taking the other one in. Pony finally moved, stretching his arm toward me to grasp a lock of my hair between his fingers. His pink lips parted, an unspoken question on them; I think he was waiting for me to start. But anything I might've said to him was stuck in my throat, threatening to suffocate me as he slowly sat up. It was getting harder to breathe in a steady rhythm and before I knew what was happening, Ponyboy's gentle hands were on either side of my face, wiping away the tears I hadn't noticed were falling.

"I-I-I'm s-so sorry, P-Pony," I managed to choke out.

"It's fine, Kate. Really, I ain't mad," he murmured, looking at me with concerned eyes.

'_God, why does he always have to be so damn forgiving? I'd rather he yell and scream, I'd feel less like shit.'_

Another wave of shame rolled over me, sending a fresh set of tears down my cheeks into his hands. It kept getting harder to control the sobs and that wracked my body, and I anchored my hands to his knees in an attempt to stay grounded. Suddenly, Ponyboy pulled me up by the shoulders into his lap, snaking his lean, muscled arms behind my back as he did so. I quickly tucked my head into the crook of his neck, not wanting to see any disappointment his face might hold.

"Don't up and leave me like that again, ya _hear_? I got so scared you might never come _back_," Pony whispered into my hair. A pitiful hiccup leapt out of my throat at his admission, leading him to squeeze me tighter.

"Shh, baby, shh. It's okay. _We're_ okay."

We stayed curled up together on the couch for what seemed like hours, Pony rubbing soothing circles into my back while I inhaled the faint smell of Kools and hair grease that seemed to be set in his skin and clothes. I softly pressed my lips to his neck, earning a pleased sigh in return. I leaned back enough to look at Ponyboy properly, running my fingers through his hair as I took the sight of him in. The corners of his lips quirked up when my fingertips lightly grazed them, so I took this as a sign that everything was okay again.

"I wanna sleep _here_ tonight."

"We can go to my room," he offered. "Soda an' Darry won't be back 'till the morning."

"_Good._ We got some catchin' up to do…" I trailed off, knowing full well from the way Pony was grinning like a Chessy cat that he got the idea. He stood up, then half-ran down the hall with my arms and legs locked around his neck and back. I was only vaguely aware of us hitting the mattress; by then I'd already locked my lips around his. Pony pulled back, pressing his forehead to mine with his eyes closed, our breathing coming out in a stilted rhythm.

"Happy New Year, Kate," he hummed before rejoining our lips.

And _boy_, did we celebrate.

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**Review if you like it so far. ;D  
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